Prophecy
by LeKaBu
Summary: Short story involving Cassandra Trelawney and her family.


Prophecy

"Mrs. Trelawney? Are you about? I've come for those books you promised. Mrs. Trelawney?" Mollie Norman shouted through her handkerchief. She sunk into the ornate wooden chair and rested her aching head against the table. "Go around," she muttered to the set of self-playing tarot cards, swatting away The Magician which was running into her face. "Shoo."

Cassandra Trelawney lived in the top of an Unplottable tower in the middle of mashes. Cassandra's sister, Lilith, lived in a small shack at the base of the tower with Cassandra's thirteen year old daughter, Scathach, who was a serious, quite young lady with hug, owlish eyes, like her mother and Lilith's own son, Eli, who spent more time with his best friend Nathaniel Norwick than his own family. Lilith took care of basic necessities by doing readings for visitors, while Cassandra only took the occasional customer. Neither sister nor daughter – Eli was blissful unaware of most of the comings and goings of the tower - could see any pattern in those she chose to give a reading to, only that they generally looked confused and terrified when they left, and that they would never come back to see them again. Mollie Norman, The Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, often came to see the old crone in her tower to get books for the school's impressive library.

Mollie peered blearily around the room; the fog of incense and dust awoke her dormant allergies with a vengeance. Most of the light in the room came form a small hole in the roof, and the small blinking markers in red, blue, and yellow pinned on huge maps on the wall. Dried plants dangled from ceiling beams with seashells, rocks, bits of glass, and feathers in baskets woven from palm fronds. Every piece of furniture in the room had rags screwed down along the edges and corners, and pillows lined the walls. All of the bottles and clicking trinkets on shelves were held firmly in place with leather straps. Whenever you walked across the dense, plush carpet, you could hear the crunch of muggle 'fortune' cookies lost in the tendrils of the carpet among the bird droppings and pipe ash. In the center of the room, two stools and a high backed chair were placed around the circle table. On the table were several bowls: in on was what she could identify as steamed asphodel, in another larger bowl was some powdered ginger, two small green bowls that were full of a thick, syrupy liquid that bubbled constantly she didn't recognize, and finally, in a large, stone basin, were dozens of large purple and yellow flower that were smoking in the middle of flickering green flames. The whole affect of the room was that it had the appearance that it was leaning, as if the whole structure would collapse with a single wrong move.

"You are late, you know," Cassandra Trelawney said, rapping on Mollie's shoulder with her pipe. Mollie jumped up, knocking a jar out of Cassandra's hands to the floor with a crash.

"Oh blast; I'm so very sorry."

"Don't fret so, dear. It was just Armes's chizpurfle powder." Armes, the biggest, finest jobberknoll she had ever seen, peered at Mollie with what she though was a look of pure disdain and flew higher up into the rafters. "Absolutely soundless birds, you know."

"I suppose you must enjoy the solitude that it offers," Mollie, who had taken an instant dislike of the bird, said charitably, as she tried to salvage as much of the powder as she could from the grips of the plush jungle.

"Oh, not particularly," she said softly. "Ah, well. But I do love birds. Otherwise I wouldn't allow the ridiculous number of augreys roost in my attics."

"Mrs. Trelawney, where did you come out from?" Mollie inquired, dumping the remaining powder onto the table.

"Oh, haven't you seen my ring?" Thrusting her hand up to Mollie's face, Cassandra proclaimed proudly, "Wonderful, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, quite." Mollie wondered if she was missing something as it looked like a plain, iron band to her.

"It's called a skeleton key and it been past down from Seer to Seer in my family. When I die, it will go to Scathach."

"Scathach has the Sight?"

"She has a little talent, yes. Nowhere near as much as mine, but she does have it. Anyhow, she's quite clever, just like her auntie. She'll do just fine. Anyway, would you like to see how it works?" Cassandra said, strolling off to a map of Europe and Asia, she pulled back a large section of the map, sending the markers off the map where they began to buzz around her head like droning honey bees. Mollie held her breath, as if she was watching some sort of holy ritual, as Cassandra rolled back the sleeve of her robe and reached out to the blank space of wall. Her ring finger began to glow green and the flesh of her finger peeled back, like a rather macabre banana, Mollie though as she stared at Cassandra's hand with horror. The skeletal finger began to change and shrink and Cassandra pushed forward and turned her hand to the right until Mollie heard a click. Cassandra stepped back, allowing a door to swing open, and instantly her finger stopped glowing and her flesh grew back on her ring finger.

"The bone changes shape to adjust to the lock. There are very few locking enchantments that can beat the skeleton key. So," Cassandra said, her fingers wrapping around Mollie's slender wrists, "let's go fetch your books then, hm? Which ones were they?"

"_Moste Potente Potions _and _Magick Most Evile_."

"Ah, good. I've just finished those. Well don't stand about gawking. Come on." Cassandra led Mollie into a huge, dusty room crammed to the brim with books. The room reminded her of the beehive tombs she studied in her Muggle Studies class; it had the same heavy, solemn air of a tomb. On the floor, books were stacked in twisting towers. The floor was littered with parchment, and in the center of the room was a writing desk.

"Finished?" Mollie asked.

"Finished writing, dear."

"But Mrs. Trelawney, all of the books you've given us were written ages ago. It's a miracle they've resurfaced at all."

"Oh, I'm hardly a miracle worker. I just copy down what I read. Look her, you," Cassandra said, waling across the room to the table and picking up a piece of parchment. "This was written in 1756. It was destroyed in 1820. Did you see the bowls in the main room? A careful mixture of the right herbs and—" Cassandra paused, tidying up a roll of parchment, "well, let's just say there is more to divination than foggy figures in crystal balls."

"M-O-S-T-E?"

"I like to keep is as authentic as possible."

"And this one? It's called _Confronting the Faceless_?"

"That hasn't been written yet. Ah, here they are." Cassandra pulled the two books from underneath a plotted plant with the same flowers she saw on fire in the main room, on the table. "Now you take these, dear, and I'll just take these," she said, while picking up several scrolls and placing them under her left arm. "Off we go, then."

Mollie followed Cassandra back through the door which shut with a faint snap. Cassandra pulled her wand out from her robes and waved it at the peeled back map, causing it to spring back on to the wall. The markers that had been stuck in the map soared down from the ceiling and swept back into their respective places. "Now then," Cassandra said, "all that's been taken care of, cup of tea?"

"Oh yes, please."

Cassandra walked over to the entrance way to the tower room and stuck her head out the door, shouting "Oh do hurry up Scathach."

"I'm here mother, don't shout so," Scathach scolded, carrying a large basket as she maneuvered her way past her mother. "I've biscuits too. Hello again, Professor."

"Hello, Scathach. Have you gotten your supplies for the upcoming year? I'm sure I saw your cousin Eli in Diagon Alley, collecting his books."

"No, Professor."

"I've meant to ask you about that, Mollie," Cassandra said while tapping one of her tarot cards with her wand. "Away," she commanded, sending the cards whizzing to a nearby shelf in a neat stack. "You wouldn't mind taking the girl along to Diagon Alley, would you?"

"Oh, that wouldn't be any trouble at all."

"Right then. Scathach, you tell your Auntie that you'll be out for dinner, and saddle up Babs for your professor," Cassandra said, putting out the emerald flames with a flick of her hand. She took here pipe out of her pocket and filed it with the crushed flowers.

"Yes mum," the girl said after placing the dishes and biscuits form her basket on the table.

"I'll help you; it's rather complicated."

"Oh don't worry Professor," Scathach said, pouring the tea. "I remember how to do it from all the times before. I'll just go do it now then," she said her mousey brown hair swinging wildly as Scathach scampered down the winding stairs.

"She's a clever girl, hardworking too. I wish she had been placed in my house," Mollie said wistfully, sipping her tea.

Cassandra watched the growing cloud of smoke about their heads as it twisted and turned into different shapes: a snake, a cauldron, and then a phoenix. Cassandra frowned and waved the figures away. "You're a Hufflepuff, yes?"

"That's correct. You were from Slytherin house. I was surprised when Scathach went into Ravenclaw."

"She's an uncommonly clever girl. Clever enough to know when to be quiet, a talent few have. So," she said thoughtfully, "would you like me to give you a reading?" She tapped the center of the table. Mollie just noticed how the table inclined slightly downwards towards the center where, after Cassandra tapped it, an opening appeared.

"What?" Mollie said, dropping her biscuit, "Oh no."

"You sure?" Cassandra said, while fishing a marble out of the basket and holding it up to the meager light. "I suppose it's for the best. Ah well. I never really liked crystal balls anyway. That's that then. He will be all right, though, if you're interested."

"I really do have to be going," Mollie said her rapid movement to stand upsetting her cup. "Oh, blast." She wiped out her wand. "Evanesco."

"That's nice dear," Cassandra said, distracted. She looked to Mollie to be staring far off into the distance. "Oh damn it all." Cassandra dropped the marble as she tumbled from her seat, her skirt flying up, bellowing "leave, leave, go!" Mollie fled the room, taking the steps three at a time. She could hear Cassandra muttering under the trance, her rough, hoarse voice vibrating through the thin walls, punctuated by the thumps of Mollie's heavy boots hitting the wooden steps.

"What the - she having a fit? I suppose I had better go see to her," Lilith said sighing heavily when she saw Mollie dash out the front entrance. "Would you mind putting Scathach up with Eli? He's staying with the Norwick's. I've already contacted them, so they won't be surprise when you drop her off there."

"Yes, yes," Mollie panted.

"I'm ready," Scathach chirped, standing next to the little house with Babs, Mollie's aethonan mare.

Mollie mounted the winged hose with practiced ease, relaxing in the familiarity and comfort it provided for hear. "Give me your hand." Pulling the girl up, Mollie settled Scathach in behind her and said, "hold on to me tightly," and spurred the Babs onward, the cry of augreys ringing in her ears.


End file.
